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After Anna’s post on her triathlon, I feel a little silly saying that I played golf all weekend… but I did. And loved it all (except, of course, missing Anna’s and Molly’s successes!).

Three college friends (Dave, Brad, and Brad) joined me for the 48th Annual Williams Alumni Golf Tournament at the incredible Taconic Golf Club. It’s where I learned to play while working at Williams, and I realize now how spoiled I was.

About 240 players were in the tournament this year, and it always draws alums from across the class years. Teams of two compete in flights by handicaps, and each team ends up playing five nine-hole best ball matches. Brad N. and I ended up faring ok together in our matches, only losing badly to a team that hit a hole-in-one against us. Seriously. The guy had been playing 40 years and it was his first ace. Oh yeah, they also had three other birdies… best 15 handicappers I’d ever seen.

If you’ve ever played Taconic, the golf speaks for itself. The competition is incredibly into it, too, but in that fun, laid-back way that I like about Williams alums. Besides the golf, though, the main highlights involved hanging out on the porch post-rounds. Like this:

A typical scene after a long day of golf

Among the things we did on the porch this year were:

– Drank about 6 pitchers of BBC Steel Rail Ale

– Ordered calzones from Colonial Pizza

– Talked about the Indians’ many injuries and slumping play with one of the team surgeons (Williams ’84… same guy who did Big Papi’s wrist surgery a few months back)

– Talked about the future of higher education with Texas oil executives

– Played bridge during a thunderstorm

– Were identified as “guys like us” by one guy who said his alma mater (Dartmouth) was being run by socialists (we did not inform him that, as we had arrived from Berkeley, South Beach, and Cambridge, it was unlikely we were, in fact, “guys like him”)

– Recapped nearly every good and bad shot we hit all day late into the afternoon

Anyway, it was a great time, as usual, and we’ve already secured our place in next year’s tournament by being the last teams to leave the clubhouse Sunday.

Yes, indeed it is. Finally. This week was long, and it felt like there was an extra day in there–especially when I thought Thursday was Wednesday… but luckily it’s here now and we can rest for a few days.

Psyche! HAHA. Yeah right.

Mark’s up in Williamstown golfing in an Alumni Tournament, schmoozin with some buddies and enjoying the fresh air in the purplest of mountains ever to be. I hope he comes home with good stories of amazing shots and perfect putts, and brings me back a prize. Maybe a funny hat or one of those little pencils? I’ll let Mark describe more on what I’m sure will turn out to be a fabulous golf weekend when he gets back.

For me, I’m running… and swimming and biking… my triathlon in Webster Mass this weekend!! My friend and colleague Molly and I are heading down tomorrow to the Expo, then back up here for some carbo-loading, then back down in the early a.m. to rack our bikes and head to the water for a 7:00 start. Some of our friends from the office have promised to make the trek down and cheer us on, so we’re super excited for that, and appreciative too–since none of our family members will be able to be there sadly, it will be great to have friends there to shout out “Go Molly! Woohooo! Yay Anna! Don’t die!!” and other such things as we speed by them on our bikes and in our tennies.

The triathlon, like I said, is in Webster Mass at Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg. Yes, that is the name… here’s a link to more info on it. I believe my friend Korinne, who is from those parts, told me that it means “you fish on your side, and I’ll fish on mine, and we’ll meet in the middle sometime” … or something like that, because the lake is so shallow you can meet in the middle?! I guess? [Note: Ok, I looked it up, and I misheard–The translation is actually “Englishmen at Manchaug at the Fishing Place at the Boundary,” but most native Websterners translate it as “You fish on your side, I’ll fish on mine, and no one fishes in the middle,” which I like better. I don’t exactly know why one wouldn’t fish in the middle. Perhaps the fish are bad there. Or maybe there just aren’t any fish in the middle? Or maybe their canoes were not strong enought to get to the middle?]

Here’s a picture from last year’s tri–this was my heat. We go off in heats of similarly-aged women, about 50-80 people, and then they let you go and you’re on your own from there for a .5 mile swim. Then it’s to the bike, 12 miles, and then on to the 2.8 mile run. And then it’s over, and you cheer and cry and drink lots of water, and then you eat a giant meal and go to bed because that’s all you want to do you’re so hungry and tired.

I’ll put more pictures up of the weekend in a later post. Wish us luck!!